


You Died: You Pissed Strade Off

by SindereChan



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novel)
Genre: Drowning, Gore, Guro, Omorashi, Other, Piss, Rape, Torture, Watersports, death kink, face fucking, non con, non-con, piss drinking, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 08:05:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7707070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SindereChan/pseuds/SindereChan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in the first person, just as it is in the game. You are trapped in Strade's basement and have survived for longer than you anticipated. Unfortunately, this is turning out to be a problem, as you haven't been let go to use the washroom since you got there, and the water and beer is starting to take a toll!</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Died: You Pissed Strade Off

I wasn't sure how long I had been inside that basement. Hours? Days?  
There were no windows of course, and it's not like I could count on my own brain to help me keep track. I can’t get a full night’s sleep either, being tied to this pole and subjected to daily physical and mental torture from that German psychopath. I think I surprised both of us by how difficult it was to break my mind, but it's been awhile and I am still here. Or at least it's felt like forever.  
Occasional visits from Ren certainly helped that. The little fox boy would come downstairs whenever Strade was out of the house to help clean my wounds and feed me water, occasionally give me a bit of food too. I'm not sure how Strade hadn't found out now or if he was just allowing it to keep me around longer, but either way it was helpful.  
Was helpful.

I was quickly seeing the issue with being tied to a pole but still being able to drink water as I started to squirm, grimacing as the ropes dug into my wrists. Strade had tied them back up fairly tightly. There was really no point trying to struggle now. I cursed under my breath and tried to shift my body in a way that would put less of a strain on my aching bladder. This was a dilemma that I wasn't really expecting to have. Hell, I didn't even expect to live long enough to need to go pee.

But there was nothing I could do about it now. I got into the most comfortable position I could manage and tried my best to fall asleep again. At least if I was asleep I wouldn't have to worry about it until later. It's not like I could do anything until Strade or Ren came downstairs to help me anyways.  
I was awoken rudely by a swift kick to my leg, and I knew it wasn't Ren coming with his occasional aftercare. I opened my eyes and glared up at the figure towering over me, his greasy brown hair falling over his face and his mouth twisted into a smile that was so sickly sweet that it made me want to vomit. What was the point of him keeping up the 'nice guy' charade after driving fucking nails into my legs?  
"Good morning, mien kleine maus. Sleep well?" He gave a low chuckle, crouching down to brush a strand of hair from my face.  
I shivered, partially from his touch and partially from how cold it was to be sitting on the basement floor in my underwear. That shiver brought my mind rapidly back to my previous predicament. I let out a small gasp as I felt my bladder momentarily betray me and tried desperately to get it under control. I managed to stop it but my underwear was still a little bit wet. Strade noticed my distress and grinned, although I wasn't sure at first if he knew exactly why I was so uncomfortable.

"Oh, having a bit of a problem, are we?" He asked, licking his lips.  
His hand trailed down my chest and I squeaked as he dragged his fingertips over my bladder, not once breaking eye contact. He pressed down lightly and I couldn't help but to let out a small cry, but this time, I managed to stop myself from leaking right away.  
"Do you need something? You're going to have to speak up if you need something from me."  
I bit my lip, my face red hot. I thought of a couple things that I could say back, but I didn't really think telling him to fuck off was going to help me much in this situation. I swallowed my pride and looked up at him with pleading eyes.  
"P-please… bathroom."  
I could barely choke out more than that; the strain from my bladder was all I could think of and I needed to concentrate to make sure I didn't leak again. I flinched as I felt him pat my head.  
"Well, you did ask so nicely," He said with a smile.  
I let out a sigh of relief. I guess not even he wanted a mess to have to clean up today, at least not a mess that wasn't blood. I watched him curiously as he reached for his hip. My heart rate increased as I saw him grab for the knife and point it at me with a crazed look in his eyes.  
"If you manage to hold it until I'm done having fun with you, then I'll untie you and take you to the washroom, okay?" He proposed, bringing the knife closer to him.

Horrified, I didn't even know how to respond. I couldn't believe that he was serious. I realized that he was, indeed, quite serious as I felt him drag the tip of the blade gently down my chest. I gasped and clenched my legs together.  
"Don't move. Wouldn't want me to slip and jab it into your heart, right?" He giggled.  
He didn't need my fucking help to do that. He pressed the blade in slightly and I yelped in pain as he sliced a nice, long cut down to my belly button. It wasn't as deep as he normally liked to cut me, but it still hurt, and I could feel the warm blood start to trickle down my skin. Miraculously though, I managed to hold it without even leaking. Perhaps the torture would be enough of a distraction from my stinging bladder that I'd be able to make it through this.

He continued his fun, this time targeting my leg. He made shallow cuts but it was considerably more painful this time. My legs still hadn't healed from when he decided to take up carpentry. He watched my every move, both amused and turned on by my suffering. I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks. He pressed the knife in a bit deeper than usual and I panicked as my bladder suddenly let go. I cursed and tried to get my control back, but by the time I managed to stop it there was already a small puddle underneath me. I whimpered as Strade grabbed at my crotch, rubbing the wet underwear against me. It almost felt nice.

"Not going to be able to hold on for much longer, huh?"  
His tone was mocking and it made me sick to my stomach. I didn't even look at him. This made him grin even more. He raised the knife up above my leg and in an instant, plunged it deep inside my thigh. I was so shocked by how quickly it happened I didn't even scream. My entire body froze up as I lost control again, but this time, I knew that I wasn't going to stop it. My body shook as I relieved myself, the warmth spreading on my ass as the puddle grew larger and larger. I didn't even feel embarrassed at first. I had needed to go so badly that feeling it rush out was wonderful, and I let out a shaky sigh as the last of it trickled out all over the floor.  
That good feeling went away pretty quickly as I looked up in horror to see Strade; his face red and hot with excitement, staring at the mess of blood and piss underneath me. After a moment his eyes met mine and he chuckled.  
"You just couldn't hold it, could you? Little pisswhore," He growled, coming closer to me.  
He grabbed the knife in my leg and roughly yanked it out, this time getting a nice, loud scream out of me. I was scared and mortified as he crouched over me, biting into my shoulder as he untied my wrists behind the pole. After my arms were freed he stood up and grabbed me by the hair, forcibly dragging me forward to look at the mess I had made.  
"You see that? That's a bad, bad puppy. You made a mess."  
I squeaked as he pushed my head down, shoving my face into the puddle. I retched and gagged, not really enjoying the experience of my own piss on my face. He was treating me like a dog who had an accident and I felt so degraded.  
"You need to be punished."  
He let go of my hair and I looked up at him. He looked even more excited now, and he licked his lips again, pointing to the puddle.

"Lick up the mess you made," He ordered, pushing some of his hair out of his face.  
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.  
"You've got to be kidding!" I shouted defiantly.  
His eyes darkened and I quickly regret trying to talk back to him.  
"No? You could always go for a ride on my table saw. Lick it up, pisswhore."  
There was no point trying to argue with a psychopath. Sobbing, I began to lick up my mess of blood and piss. It was coppery from the blood and left a bitter taste in my mouth, but to my surprise, it didn't taste as disgusting as I would have expected. Of course, it was the thought of what I was licking up that made me retch and gag. I couldn't even force myself to swallow.

"Tch. Useless. Maybe it's the blood that you don't like?"  
'No, no, it was definitely the piss,' I thought. Who the fuck was he trying to kid? I yelped again as he yanked me back up by the hair, dragging me back to the pole. He was tying me up again, and I was almost relieved. I felt dirty and disgusting, but at least he wasn't trying to make me lick up my own piss anymore. Strade walked over to the counter, grabbing something metal, and walking back to me. I didn't like the look on his face.  
"It's okay, mien kleine maus. I will just make you my urinal instead," he said, showing me the o-ring gag he was holding.  
It was even worse.

"No! No no no, please no!"  
I could only beg and cry, but I knew there was no point. When Strade wanted something, he would just take it. He didn't care how much you protested. I struggled with him as he forced the gag into my mouth and secured it to my head, letting out muffled cries as he took a step back, undoing his pants. He freed his already hard member from his pants and grinned, clutching my hair again and shoving his cock to the back of my throat. I gagged as he began to viciously throat fuck me, slamming it into the back of my throat painfully over and over again. I was crying again. And then suddenly, he stopped thrusting; his dick halfway in my mouth.

"I hope you're thirsty," He chuckled.  
I squirmed as I felt him release his piss; the warm liquid filling my mouth and leaking down my throat. Even worse, he shoved his cock to the back of my throat again, pissing directly down it. I choked and gagged, instinctively trying to catch a breath but when I did, his piss would fill my lungs. I kicked my legs around, trying to struggle and get away, but his grip on my hair and head was too strong. I was literally drowning in his piss. I couldn't stop myself from trying to take another breath and another, and very quickly I could see the corners of my vision start to turn black.  
"You don't make a very good urinal, do you?" Were the last words I heard before I completely blacked out.

You died: You pissed Strade off.


End file.
